


Under the Stars and in the Arms of my Brothers

by Mademoisellesnowflake



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, mostly light-hearted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 23:12:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14199708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mademoisellesnowflake/pseuds/Mademoisellesnowflake
Summary: After an ambush, Athos has to negotiate with the bandits to release Porthos who has been taken hostage while Aramis is wounded and bleeding and refuses to stitch his wound before he knows Porthos is safe.What could possibly go wrong?





	Under the Stars and in the Arms of my Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Looks like a new fic has been written :D My thanks to Miuku who prompted me and helped me create this short one-shot, especially when I just said that I wanted to write and I wanted pain.
> 
> With no further ado, I hope you enjoy the story!

Athos was unhappy.

In his defence, he had a perfectly good reason to be unhappy. He, along with Porthos and Aramis, had been ambushed as they’d been returning from a mission, and Porthos had been taken hostage. The ambushers wanted a safe passage away from their hideout where they were holding Porthos. Athos had been trying to negotiate with the men, telling them he just wanted Porthos back and that he’d allow the ambushers to leave safely if they just gave back his friend.

Oh, and they’d wounded Aramis. The day was turning out to be just wonderful.

“What did they say?” Aramis asked as Athos returned to the place where Aramis was sitting. “Are they going to let Porthos go?”

“They will but not until nightfall”, Athos said. “They want us to wait until the sun has gone down until we go get Porthos back. They’re going to leave before we retrieve him.”

“Well, that won’t be long”, Aramis said. His hands were shaking and he was definitely too pale; his wound was taking a toll on him. “You get him out of there and I’ll check him for any injuries. We won’t be trying to ride for Paris tonight, are we?”

“We won’t”, Athos decided. “You should take care of your injury too, Aramis.”

“Pfft, there’s no time”, Aramis said as he positioned himself against the rocks shielding their hideout so that he could shoot the ambushers if need arose. He was panting and there were beads of sweat rolling down his temple. “We need to make sure Porthos is alright first. I’m not even bleeding that bad.”

“But you’re bleeding nonetheless”, Athos offered. “You should at least bind the wound.”

“Not before Porthos is safe”, Aramis muttered.

And that’s where the conversation ended because Athos knew it’s futile to even try to get an answer from Aramis when he’s so worried for Porthos. Athos was worried too but his worry showed itself differently from Aramis’; Athos always went so very quiet and reserved when he was worried. At that moment, it wasn’t only Porthos Athos was worried about, but Aramis as well. Aramis who was still bleeding and wouldn’t take care of himself until he knew Porthos was safe.

What a self-sacrificing moron.

As the sun went lower and lower, Aramis’ breathing became harsher and more erratic. Athos tried to persuade him to treat his wound once again but Aramis simply refused, saying that Porthos needed to be safe first. Athos sighed and leaned back.

It wouldn’t be much longer until Athos could go in and fetch Porthos. As the sun finally was all the way down, Athos stood up and began walking to the hideout to fetch Porthos. Athos heard a soft thud, probably caused by Aramis dropping his gun as there was no more danger. Athos smiled to himself, relieved that Aramis would finally take care of himself.

As Athos reached the ambushers’ hideout, he immediately saw Porthos. Porthos’ hands had been bound behind his back and he was sitting on the ground, legs crossed. He was looking forward angrily and he was shaking in the breeze. For a moment, he glared at Athos almost as angrily as Treville would after finding out the trio had been duelling but then gave him the widest grin possible.

“Thought you’d forgotten me here”, Porthos said, laughter in his voice as Athos moved in to untie his hands. “You and Aramis both good?”

“I’m uninjured”, Athos said simply, “but Aramis was wounded. He wouldn’t look after his wounds until I left to fetch you.”

“Was it bad?” Porthos asked, frowning. “Why on earth would he not –?”

“He was worried for you”, Athos said before Porthos could finish his question. “You know him, always worrying for the rest of us and never for himself. One might wonder how he’s ever lived this far at all.”

“Oh, yeah”, Porthos said and chuckled as he stood up and began following Athos to the spot where he’d left Aramis. “Lucky little bastard he is. Should take more care of himself and not scare all of us to death with his dumb desire to help others more than himself.”

“Indeed”, Athos said as he led Porthos away from the place he’d been kept in. Porthos seemed to be in a good condition; the bandits hadn’t hurt him just like they’d promised not to do. As they neared the spot where Aramis was still hiding, Athos noticed a shape on the ground. He frowned when he realised the shape was at the exact spot where Aramis had been sitting but instead of sitting, the shape was lying on the ground.

It was Aramis.

“No, no, NO!” Porthos yelled as he recognised the shape on the ground as his friend. He ran to Aramis and gently shook his shoulders. “Wake up, Aramis, wake UP!”

“He’s been bleeding for too long”, Athos mumbled. “Porthos, I need you to treat his wound. It’s on his left side; it shouldn’t be very big.”

Porthos nodded as he set out to work. He opened Aramis’ doublet and shirt as Athos brought him Aramis’ small medical bag. Porthos stitched the wound, doing almost as good job as Aramis would have. When Aramis still didn’t wake up after his wound was stitched and wrapped up, Porthos sighed and wrapped a cloak around him.

They would have to wait.

* * *

“Oh no. Who died?” Aramis joked as soon as he woke up half on Porthos’ lap and saw Porthos’ grim expression. The joke fell a little flat, though, as Aramis’ voice was hoarse and he winced as soon as he tried to move even a little.

“You”, Porthos hissed and gripped Aramis’ shoulders. “You almost died, you moron! You refused to take care of yourself and almost died!”

“Why didn’t you take care of your wound?” Athos asked quietly, sounding a lot like Aramis would be dying.

“I couldn’t concentrate on it, knowing that Porthos was alone in there with those bandits”, Aramis said quietly, avoiding his friends’ gazes. “I needed to be sure he was alright before I would take care of myself. You both know how that goes; make sure others are well before making sure you yourself are well. We’re all little idiotic like that.”

“That doesn’t make it alright!” Porthos growled and shook Aramis’ shoulders gently. “You can’t always look after others and ignore your wounds or else you might die! Can you even imagine how _afraid_ we were when we saw you lying on the ground like that? Can you imagine how it feels like to fear that your friend has died while you were away? Can you, Aramis?”

“I can”, Aramis whispered and reached up to stroke Porthos’ cheek. “That’s why I always make sure you and Athos are alright before I look after myself.”

For a moment, Porthos could only stare disbelievingly at Aramis before he pulled Aramis up into a crushing hug. Aramis gasped as the movement pulled at his stitches but returned the hug nonetheless. He smiled into Porthos’ shoulder as Porthos grumbled something about irresponsible friends and terrible sense of humour.

“You two should sleep”, Athos said after some moments. “You’re both exhausted and we need to set out for Paris tomorrow. I’ll stand guard.”

“Just sit, Athos”, Aramis said, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “You look rather tired as well.”

Athos chuckled at the attempted humour and lightly swatted Aramis’ shoulder. He sat down, leaning on the rock Aramis had previously propped himself against and watched Aramis and Porthos. Porthos lay down on the ground, pulling Aramis down with him and wrapping his cloak around Aramis’ shoulders. Athos shook his head and placed his own cloak over the two.

“Take my cloak or you’ll freeze, Athos”, Aramis mumbled from Porthos’ embrace. Athos hummed in agreement and picked Aramis’ cloak off the ground and wrapped himself in it. He buried his hand in Aramis’ hair and began playing with it, calming both himself and Aramis. Soon Aramis’ and Porthos’ breathing evened out and Athos knew the two were asleep. Athos continued playing with Aramis’ hair as he sat guard.

In the morning when Aramis and Porthos woke up, Athos was still awake, staring into the unknown. It took him longer than usual to realise that Aramis and Porthos were awake and looking at him.

“Did you sleep at all?” Aramis asked quietly. After a moment Athos shook his head, still staring somewhere far away.

“Sleep for a little while I clear away the camp, Athos”, Porthos said and gently pushed Athos down to lie next to Aramis. He wrapped his arms around Aramis’ torso and Aramis made an annoyed face. “You aren’t going anywhere, Aramis. Your wound is barely healed.”

Aramis sighed and turned to face Athos who had already fallen asleep. Aramis smiled and pulled one of the cloaks – he wasn’t sure whose it was anymore – to cover Athos’ shoulders while he slept. They would soon be on their way back to Paris and Treville would hopefully give Aramis a day or two to rest.

Aramis closed his eyes and hugged Athos. He would rest only a bit longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always much appreciated!


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